Heavy Heart
by bros-shades
Summary: Bro and Dave are strifing on the roof top and Bro has made this duel into one that has a rather lewd prize for the winner.


**Heavy Heart, a stridercest something-shot (not so sure how long it'll be!)**

**Warnings: Incest, swearing**

**D/C: these wonderful characters do not belong to me, but Andrew Hussie**

**This is inspired by faun-song's beautiful brodave fanart (faun-song[DOT]tumblr[DOT]**com/post/15795565647/drarry-dave-john-stridercest-sad-stridercest#notes ).

**Also, this is not edited, proofread or whatever so I hope there's not too many mistakes!**

It was just a normal day when Dave got home from school, he throwing his backpack, it landing on the couch as he moved towards the kitchen.

Mindful of the traps Bro may have set in the kitchen, Dave searched for something to eat, but only found a note with the words "Rooftop. Bring a sword." scribed in Bro's handwriting. This too was normal for the Strider Household. Dave exited the kitchen then found one of the many swords scattered around the apartment, then set out for the roof.

A short walk up the stairs (as Dave lived on the top floor of the shitty apartment Bro paid for, though his plethora of cash from his freaky Smuppet-porn websites could afford much greater) brought him to the rooftop, heated by the hot Texan sun.

Dave could tell Bro heard the soft click of the door that led to the roof as Dave closed it, but the guardian stood still. In Bro's hand was an old, beaten-up iPod, the generic headphones in one of his ears. Dave waited, waited for Bro to make the first move. Dave was prepared for a quick attack, he being able to defend it, trained to do so.

Instead, Bro turned slowly, his hand reached the bud out of his ear, then curling the cord of the headphones around the device with his gloved hands. Bro set the iPod down on a ventilator and picked up his own sword that was resting up against the same vent.

His voice came out smooth and nonchalant, as it always was, "This time we're not dueling so you aren't stuck at an amateur's level," Dave guffawed at Bro's sarcasm internally. "Either you fuck me up or I fuck you."

Behind his shades, Dave widened his eyes and was thankful that Bro couldn't see the chink in his apathetic armor. Thoughts raced through his mind, quickly trying to decode what Bro meant by "I fuck you." _Did Bro mean fuck me as in beat me like he always does? Or mean fuck like…fuck my – _

Dave's pondering was cut off by Bro running at him with his sword raised in attack. Still slightly ready from being prepared once he entered the door, Dave gave a weak defense. Dave's meager block got him pushed up against the door that led back inside, Bro's attack stronger.

Bro's sword still lingered on Dave's, the sound of metal sliding up against each other ringing low. The pushing from Bro's side subsided for a moment, he letting Dave free himself. With great speed, Dave took this time and flung Bro off him.

The sun highlighted Bro's figure, it shining into Dave's shades, they turning it a dark color. Dave lunged in attack and Bro dodged it with one small step. This was what Bro did; Dave would strike his sword at Bro until he was worn out and Bro could easily defeat the younger, Bro full of energy and Dave weary with fatigue. Dave had tried different tactics, but all of them failed. All he could do was build up the stamina to outlast Bro as he moved towards his prime and Bro aged. This strategy was no better.

Dave rapidly became drained, he hunching and panting heavily, his red eyes peeking over his glasses to look at Bro's. Bro was standing tall, his chest making the minimal amount of movement as he breathed evenly.

One final assault was all Dave had left in him. He swing and swords clanged, the sound familiar to his ears. The shorter blonde fell to his knees as Bro pointed his own sword to the boy, a sign that this match was over.

In that same aloof tone as before, Bro commanded Dave "Go get my iPod."

Bro removed the tip of his sword from Dave's neck as he rose, a drop of blood trickling from the small wound.

Bro's eyes moved behind his pointed shades, watching each step of Dave's and then his fingers grasp the blocky iPod. Dave pivoted on his heel and questioned Bro for more instructions, "What now?"

Before Bro dashed the fuck off the roof and left Dave standing with only sword in hand, the iPod being swiped from his hand as Bro absconded, the older commanded "Meet me on the futon."

Dave had little time to debate the meaning of Bro's ever cryptic sayings. Or was Bro's first dialogue straight to the point? _Or I fuck you…or I fuck you…or I fuck you…_continually echoed in Dave's head as he descended the stairs from the roof.

He entered the apartment, intending to set down his sword before Bro ambushed him, but his efforts were useless. Dave's blade fell to the floor, Bro pinning Dave to the ground so that the younger could join the sharp object.

Though his shades, Bro glared down at Dave and said sadistically "I don't think you're bruised enough." Dave had been blown back multiple times during their strife match from Bro's defensive blocks, he landing on his ass quite a few times.

At Bro's statement, Dave kept his face in its same stoic expression as he was trained to do while Bro dove down and started working on Dave's neck. The boy's façade failed as he let out a shriek in response to Bro's vicious attack of the younger blonde.

Dave squirmed under the weight of Bro, and the hot and heavy lips sucking, teeth gnawing hungrily at his flesh. Every once and a while, Bro's tongue would flick over the fresh cut over Dave's Adam's apple, causing him to inhale at the pain and pleasure the slick muscle created.

Bro removed his mouth from the reddening neck and then his body from Dave's. The patriarch towered over the juvenile, his feet on either side of the laying's knees. Dave watched, propped up on his elbows as Bro command ordered "Get the lube and condoms from the bathroom cabinet and be down to your shitty heart-decorated boxers by the time you come back."

Dave visibly gulped.


End file.
